


D:BH Imagines Vol. 2

by 50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret



Series: Detroit: Become Human Fics and Imagines [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Child Neglect, Comfort Reading, Decisions, Declarations Of Love, Detroit, Developing Relationship, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviants (Detroit: Become Human), Dorks in Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, I Love You, Idiots in Love, Laughter, Love, Love Confessions, Multi, Near Death, Near Future, Nervousness, Not Beta Read, Ouch, Out of Character, Platonic Relationships, Post-Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Relationship, Presumed Dead, Reader-Insert, Really Old Guy, Refugees, Relationship(s), Requited Love, Requited Unrequited Love, Return, Some Humor, Some Plot, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Therapy, True Love, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret/pseuds/50s_housewife_with_a_dark_secret
Summary: Is this up to my standards? No. Do I care? Also no.





	1. (Luther/Reader/Kara)

It's gotten way too close to Alice's "birthday" and the Jerry's are looking after her while the three of you go shopping all night for gifts and decorations. 

You look around the shops. "What a pretty dress!" You remark at one. 

"Does Alice really need fancy clothes?" Kara asks. 

"No. But she might like them."

"Nah," You admit "Kara's got a point. What kid wants clothes for their birthday?"

"Still...she doesn't have too many." Kara takes the dress off the rack. "We can pick up any that look like her style." 

****

Luther, of the three of you, has the weirdest, most constant sense of humor, so you don't waste your time accusing Kara nor does she you, when a huge frizzy wig shows up in the cart. Kara bursts out laughing and tries to get you both to try it on. You just roll your eyes and go along with it, flipping it back dramatically and striking a pose. "This is why we're in love, Luther" You tell him as Kara puts the wig back on a random shelf.

"Thanks." He deadpans. "I really feel appreciated." 

 


	2. (Simon/Reader)

It's a silly game, just passing back and forth questions that range from favorite color to darkest secret. 

"What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" Simon asks. It's a few months into your relationship, and things are going well. You're sitting on a balcony of one of his favorite abandoned buildings, wrapped in a huge fluffy blanket. 

"Ummm" you think about it. It's been a fucking weird couple of years. "It's kind of a downer."

"You don't _have_ to tell me." He says in a way that tells you he wants very badly for you to tell him but will move on to his turn if you decline. 

"I broke into the...um...y'know...camps from last year. At first I was just gonna take pictures and do the whole journalism thing...and then I saw an opening to grab this little kid and this guy who was looking out for her and fucking run for it. I took a bullet to the shoulder from one of the guards. It was fucking intense."

"Damn" Simon, the idiot, looks impressed, despite being one of the key leaders of the revolution.

"What do you mean damn? I know for a  _fact_ you've done crazier shit. Like with the tower? You literally DIED."

"It was more like a coma." Simon insists.

"You are not helping your case." You say. You hesitate a second "...I love you." You say in a rush.

Simon laughs nervously. "I love you too, (Y/N)" he says. You kiss.

As soon as you separate you call out "My turn! Ummm...are you a cat person or a dog person?"

He thinks about it for a moment "I guess I've never really considered it. I don't really know if I'm a  _pet_ person to be honest."

You gasp in mock horror, "How dare you?"

The two of you break out into nervous laughter. You lean in for another kiss but Simon iether doesn't notice or is too nervous to return in and continues staring over the skyline. You pull back awkwardly. He responds with a sudden surprise kiss on your cheek and you grin. 

"Sorry." He says nonsensically "I'm just... nervous... around you...I guess." 

"Nah makes sense I'm pretty intimidating what with my no muscles and total inability to reason." 

"Shut up." He says affectionately.

"You shut up." You say and nudge him. 

He giggles. There's no other word for it. You don't usually like giggling but when Simon does it it's...really cute actually. 

"What was that?" you tease.

"You're just funny, I don't know!" He defends.

"See, the fact that you find my sense of humor actually funny just makes me question your intelligence." It isn't as witty as you'd like it to be but your version of flirting is mostly just affectionate insults so...it'll have to do. 

Simon just giggles harder. 

"You nerd! That was even worse than my last one!" You accuse. 

He looks suddenly worried. "Sorry." You say "Did I take it too far?"

"No" He smiles, but there's a sadness to it. "I just don't want this moment to end. I'm gonna miss you when you move on."

"Frankly." You admit. "I don't think I'll be moving on anytime soon. I was actually...I was actually thinking sort of the same thing about you."

He sighs happily and puts his hand in yours. The sun is setting and you'll have to get home soon but you don't think about that for now. 

 


	3. (Reader & OC & Jericho)

It's Erin. The running partner that "belongs" to Mr. Johnson next door. 

You open the door to let him in, even as you ask "Erin? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"I fucked up. I didn't lie well enough." 

"Shit." You say. You knew he was deviating and it was becoming harder and harder to hide. He'd visited you twice, without orders just to talk. He seemed to have determined you to be "safe" for some reason, which was admittedly pretty flattering. "Shit how much do they know?"

"They're sending in a new model to replace me in a week or so." He says, pacing the room. 

"I need your car." He demands. 

"Erin," You say "I wanna help but I can't just  _give_ you my car. I kind of need that." 

"Remind me to fucking kill you." He says. You aren't sure if he means it but he looks genuinely pissed off.

"Look." You say "Wherever you're going, I'll go with you. It's best you're not on your own anyway. It'll raise fewer questions."

"So what, you're just gonna mysteriously disappear at the exact same time as me? You're such a fucking moron, (Y/N)" He says. You decide to let that one slide since this is clearly a tense situation. 

"I don't intend to get caught." You say "Neither of us needs to come back here. I've got some cash ready to go. I've got my car. Where are we going?" 

He smiles "I don't give a shit." He says. "But at this rate, probably to hell." 

"Speak for yourself." You say, pulling out a bag and shoving various necessities into it. 

"Especially you." He insists. 

***

By the time you get to the place Erin's apparently heard very iffy legends of, you've impaled your fucking leg on a piece of metal and it's wrapped in one of your old t-shirts. Erin is doing only slightly better. 

You find yourself surrounded by a lot of androids. You are the only human there and it's obvious that you're not the only one who's noticed this. 

"We have to kill her." Insists a WR400. 

"I don't want to kill anyone." Argues a man you don't recognize. The argument has been going on for hours now. You and Erin are waiting anxiously for the verdict. 

"They haven't shown any hostility so far."

"Because they're spying on us!" Says the violent woman again. 

"I hate to say it, but...North has a point here. I don't think we should kill the android but...we can't have a human knowing about this place. We don't have any choice." Says the man who seems to be leader.

"We do have a choice. We don't have to be like them." Argues the PL600. 

"Fine." He says decisively. "For now they're prisoners. Neither one of them leaves until we've got more info."

The one who wants you dead shrugs "Fine by me. I say we get it over with quicker but if you wanna starve her to death it'll at least be something to pass the time."

"Jesus, North" says the one she's been arguing with the most. "What is your problem."

"The constant threat of being murdered is my problem." North says. 

You have to sort of admire her deadpan delivery. 

And hey, good news, it looks like you're not going to die for now. 

"No one is starving." The leader guy turns to you, bizarrely taking this moment to reassure you "I'll go out and get some food for you tomorrow. You'll come with me and purchase some bio-components as well. Any word of this place, anything I don't tell you to say, and you're dead...Deal?" 

"Yeah" You say. "Deal." You're so relieved that you start sobbing and babbling nonsensically. You haven't slept or eaten in ages and you're terrified and this ship smells "Thank you I just thought I was about to die shit thanks I love you man shit that's crazy"  You think he catches about half of it. 

"Yeah...sorry to keep you waiting like that." He says awkwardly. He reaches over to give you a tentative pat on the shoulder.

North looks unimpressed with both of you. 

 

You do not stop sobbing. Erin looks mildly embarrassed to be associated with you, which is fair since your presence here just almost got you both killed.

 

 


	4. (North/Female!Reader)

"Hey,...I'm...I'm sorry ma'am... are humans allowed to join the sit in or is there another way I can show my support?" 

It's been a while since the revolution ended. The good news is that they won. The bad news is that actual rights and enforcement of those rights has been slow moving. This particular protest, based on the signs and banners people are holding appears to be mostly on the issue of housing discrimination. 

The woman across from you sighs. "Fine. There are extra signs over there." She points you in the direction of a foldout table. "Simon will tell you how to not fuck this up."

You nod. "Thanks. Sorry" You say quickly, because you seem to have upset her somehow, and rush off to talk to the man behind the table. 

***

You've been getting more and more involved with Jericho. Today, at the Manfred Mansion there's an art exhibit with works from both Carl and Markus, all of which are for sale. Carl, in a reclining wheelchair that looks more like a bed, looks miserable to be there, but he absolutely glows whenever Markus speaks to him or whenever someone comments on Markus' art. You aren't exactly rolling in cash but this is a good cause and some of the work here is absolutely amazing. You wish you had the money to bid on any of these. Josh waves you over to a small group. "Hey, (Y/N) a bunch of us are pooling to get this one. " He nods to a painting titled sadness. The plaque beside it explains that it was inspired by the latent pain of the years before Markus deviated. "We wanna support Markus." explains Simon. 

"Yeah sure." You say. 

"She shouldn't be a part of this." North protests. "This is supposed to show our support, you know, from _us_."

"None of us even have official _jobs_  yet, North." Josh says. 

"Fine." She says. 

"I don't wanna cause any trouble. Are you sure?" You ask. 

"Yeah." She says. "Josh is right. We need your cash." 

Not the best reason to be included but for the moment you'll go along with it. 

Simon smiles apologetically. "I know they can be a little...abrasive." He says. 

You shrug. "Nah, it's cool." But it's actually sort of nice to have someone be nice to you so after a moment you say. "Thanks." 

Simon smiles just a little. 

The four of you make your way over to the silent auction table and write down your bid. North goes back to check periodically, dragging you along to sign off on updating your contribution. 

She's less hostile now that you're working on something, even a silly silent bid, together. 

***

Kamski is there, he doesn't let anyone forget it. Carl, at least seems happy to see him, though all they do is bicker. Well, at least that keeps Kamski distracted and not talking to anyone else, which is almost certainly for the best. He is, to put it mildly, the absolute fucking worst. He brought a Chloe with him and you can't help but feel bad for her whenever you see a possessive hand around her waist or on her shoulder. From the few snatches of conversation you catch, Carl seems to feel similarly, though he does not say so outright to avoid hurting her feelings. 

The other people here are even worse. It's expensive art, and that means expensive patrons. A lot of them used to work for Cyberlife and that's where they got their money. Markus is standing off to the side looking troubled. You approach him.

"Is everything alright, sir." You say. You aren't really sure how to address a guy who's compared, somewhat accurately to Jesus Christ on a regular basis by various respected publications and smalltime blogs alike. 

"They enslaved me and now they get to keep the expression of the pain that caused me." 

"Shit." You say, because you hadn't even really thought about it that. way. "Shit that's really fucked up." 

He gives you a tired smile. "Yeah. I was thinking pretty much the same thing, albeit less foulmouthed." 

"Well, I'm just trying to reflect the mood." You defend with a humorous smile. There isn't much joy in it. 

"Of course. Some of us paint, and others are gifted in the art of language. My apologies." He says, actually smiling for a moment. 

****

The money from the art sale has gone towards setting up and renovating an old, once abandoned building as "New Jericho".  Kamski had, probably for Carl's sake, donated enough to round off the costs. Things are looking up, ever so slowly.

****

North, it turns out, likes going for jogs in the city. You see her come back from her morning run every week just as you get to New Jericho for your Saturday volunteer shift. You chat sometimes, which is a pleasant surprise. 

****

There is a press panel. You are expected to take group photos. You are next to North. You carefully avoid putting your hand, looped over her shoulders, on the area where her coat does not extend.

****

"I'm going to shoot him." She says, glaring after one reporter in particular. 

"Not in public." You quip. "Lure him somewhere private. Just, uh, just like, tell him someone actually wants to speak to him and he'll go." You fumble for humor.

She snorts. "You're not so bad, (Y/N)." She says. "Relatively speaking of course."

"Thanks." You say, feeling, for all that was half an insult, actually pretty flattered. North doesn't just say things like that. You realize in that moment that you have a crush on her. God fucking damn it.

****

"Morning." You say pleasantly when she walks through the door. "How are you?"

"No." She says and looks down at her paperwork.

You shrug and go back to your work. "Fair enough" you say.

"Mood" says Connor.

You both look at him. 

"What?" He asks.

"You've been spending way too much time with Hank." You say. 

"He is my roommate, friend, and work partner." Connor says, still missing the humor of the situation. "We spend a lot of time together. In many ways he is like a father to me." 

****

" _Tell_ her." Says Jessy. The two of you have bonded over being among the very few humans who volunteer here.

"I am not going to tell her." 

"But then you'll never knowwww." Says Jessy. 

"Trust me." You say. "I know. North is not going to date a human and she has plenty of good reasons not to." She told you about it once, and that says how much she trusts you, but no way is she actually romantically interested in you. 

"She's not with that attitude."

"Right." You say

"No" Jessy says "I mean, you're attitude."

"You're talking nonsense."

"Everything is nonsense." She says and sighs.

****

North has a habit of walking around without her skin. This is a habit that Hank has referred to as "freaky" but which you find somewhat endearing. You suspect he might actually as well but he'll be dead long before he admits that, even with Connor constantly nagging him towards health. 

****

"I have something to tell you...I just...I don't want you to feel like I'm lying to you, and obviously I know well... the thing is" You say. North is staring at you.

You sigh. "I mean I like you," You admit "But obviously _that's_ not going anywhere." 

"Get out."

"What?" 

"Go home." She says. "I need time to think about this friendship." 

Well, at least she called it a friendship, though you sort of suspect that's just to avoid the word "relationship" and all it's connotations.

"Yeah." You say, trying not to cry. You're a grown-ass woman. You don't need to sit around crying over crushes that don't pan out, when you knew they wouldn't all along. But North is your friend, or was, and you're pretty sure you fucked that up by oversharing and you hate that. Still, it would've felt wrong hiding it, somehow. "Yeah. Maybe I'll see you later." You say. 

****

You get a text the next day. [I'm not mad]

You reply with a smiley face. 

 

[I like you back.]

You fumble and drop your phone. 

[Wait what?] is the smartest thing you can think to reply. 

[If we have a relationship, we're taking it slow though. Deal?]

[Yeah absolutely] You reply but delete it before you hit send [yeah absolutely of course] still not quite right [yeah of course] you send. 

The most terrifying person you have ever met sends you a heart emoji. You squeal into your pillow like a preteen texting with her first crush. You are very glad that North is not physically there to see that.

****

[We're going to see a movie tomorrow at 12:00.] She informs you. [Meet me at the theater in the shopping center. Don't be late. If you want popcorn you can buy it yourself since I wouldn't eat it even if I could.]

 ****

She challenges you to a battle of sarcastic commentary.

You very nearly get kicked out of the theater and no winner is declared. That's fine by you. 

****

"We match" Is the first thing out of your mouth, despite being totally nonsensical, when you see that she is wearing her skin for the first time in a week. 

"Do not. Mine is way better than yours." She says, mostly joking. 

"Skin twinsies!" You call out jokingly, getting several odd glances. 

She laughs though, so it's definitely worth it.

***

"So..." You ask one day, wandering around a streetfair. "It doesn't bother you that I'm...y'know...human"

 

Her LED spins yellow. "It did at first." She admits. "But...I mean...you've sorta proven yourself and...after meeting Carl and Hank, I guess...I just...I mean you're still mostly terrible" she says, clearly referring to the species as a whole "but...you personally, and a few others, you're alright." She smiles. 

"To not being horrible." You say, raising your lemon icy in a mock toast. She fistbumps it and you burst into laughter and lean in for a kiss. 

****

She jogs over to your house and is there by the time you're waking up, much later than her. The two of you watch stupid cartoons off of some streaming service together, keeping up what has become a tradition of an ongoing "competition" to make the best biting jokes at the expense of whatever you watch. It's more collaboration than competition by now. 

 


	5. (Hank/Reader)

"Your hair is so soft" you say, leaning your face against Hank's hair as if it is a blanket. 

"Whatever you say, (Y/N)" He says. You're both half napping while the TV plays in the background. Connor is out with Simon, Markus, and North. Josh apparently couldn't make it today to pick him up because he's busy being dragged to dinner by some old lady who's become his unofficial grandma. 

It's a quiet night and your warm here. Sumo lumbers up into your laps, drooling. He's cute enough to outweigh how gross he is, and how heavy he is on your legs. 

"I'm glad you're here." you say. He'd been in treatment for suicidal tenancies and depression for about a month now, and the strain on your relationship had been heavy. 

"I'm glad I'm here too." He says and leans into you for a stubbly kiss. He's so changed and you're so proud of him.

"Yeah, Sumo really missed you." You smile. "It was getting super annoying."

"Yeah. _Sumo_ missed me." He says.

"Also Connor kept calling me about really random things. Like your toothpaste being left out and whether he should put it back or leave it alone." 

"Don't see what his problem was. He's the one who made me go in the first place."

"Whatever." You say, leaning against Hank, curling against his chest. Your hands fist in his shirt, pulling you close. He breathe in the smell of him. You feel so totally safe here. This is your home. He is your home. 

"(Y/N)?" He asks. He sounds nervous. That makes you nervous. You sit up more. 

"Yeah, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just, I was just thinking, shit never-mind." 

"Tell me." you insist

"Do-Would you wanna move in with me?"

You beam and lean back into him. "That sounds perfect Hank. I'll start packing tomorrow, if you like." 

"Yeah." He says "Yeah I could live with that." He sounds really, honestly happy, and it's nice to hear that inflection in his voice. It is a rare one. Hank is not a happy man. 

 

 

You can feel you're about to fall asleep so as you yawn you say "Goodnight. I love you, Hank."

"That's because you're an idiot, (Y/N), but I love you anyway." He says. 

Your dreams are sweet.

 

 


	6. (Ralph & Reader)

You were not aware, until this moment, how stupid you were. Staying the night in an abandoned house. On a dare. Why would you do this? You shiver. You wish someone else were here. The sound of feet approaching makes you instantly change your mind. 

"What are you doing in Ralph's house?" A man says, stepping from the shadows. He's brandishing a knife. There's a huge scar down the side of his face, and it occasionally leaks sluggish blue blood. He's a WR600. He must be hiding out here, avoiding the police. They've been cracking down on deviants more and more lately. You instantly feel sort of bad for scaring the guy, which is a weird feeling to have about someone pointing a knife at you.

"I'm sorry." You say quickly. "I didn't know anyone lived here." 

"What if you hurt Ralph? Sorry won't help Ralph then!" He says, stepping closer. Shit. You need to calm this guy down fast. Your mind is blank. 

"I don't wanna hurt you." You insist. "I'm sorry I scared you." Again, a bizarre thing to say when being threatened by a knife. "Please. Please don't hurt me." Your voice shakes. You realize distantly that you are absolutely terrified. This guy could kill you. He really might. He's clearly unstable. He's referring to himself in the third person. "You don't seem like you want to hurt anyone. Just be left alone." You insist. "I can help you. I could...if you let me go...I could... I'd come back with supplies. Whatever you want. Please don't hurt me. Please. I don't wanna die. I'm scared, just like you."

Ralph falters. "You won't hurt Ralph?" He doesn't sound much like he believes you.

"Never." You swear. "I promise." 

Ralph hesitates another second. Steps back. "Okay" he whispers. 

****

You are getting stupider every day, you've decided. Going to an abandoned house was one thing. Returning to help the guy who menaced you with a knife is another.  Ralph's requests for supplies had been surprising, but doable. He wanted a potted plant. You went with a succulent, since it was difficult to kill but didn't have any needles he could hurt himself on. He also wanted a teddy bear, though he had instantly doubted himself as he was an adult. You reassured him that plenty of people liked teddy bears, and that you could bring him one of yours that you still had. He had smiled at you brightly then. "Ralph likes you. You're nice." He'd said. You don't know why that made you so sad all of a sudden but you'd teared up. "My name's (Y/N)" by the way, you'd said, suddenly realizing that you hadn't introduced yourself. You wondered if you should've used a fake name. It's too late now either way. You're here and you open the door quietly. "Ralph?" You ask tentatively. This is so stupid? What if he just knives you? What then?

"(Y/N)!" You are wrapped, out of nowhere in a crushing hug that presses the bear and the potted plant tight against you. You return with your free arm.

Ralph pulls away and beams. "(Y/N) brought Ralph presents!" He says, as if this is a surprise. 

"Yeah." You say. "Just like you asked for." 

****

You've come to find a strange beauty in the abandoned house. You slip through the hole you cut, months ago, in the chain-link fence and slip into the house. Every time you come, Ralph greets you with a smile. He's asked for more plants lately. Flowers. You looked up "hardest flowers to kill" and brought him the top result, which was begonias. Even so, you hadn't expected them to last long. To your surprise, he has turned a small corner of the house into a makeshift garden and, while growing completely wild and unrestrained, the begonias, as well as the succulent, are very healthy. You bring water for them every time you visit, and Ralph has explained that he collects rain in an old paint bucket. He's very proud of this and you congratulate him. 

****

It's raining heavily. Pouring down. Thunder crashes and Ralph rocks back and forth in the corner. "Ralph?" You ask, not wanting to startle him. 

He jolts for a moment but then relaxes. "Oh, it's (Y/N)." He says, mostly to himself. "(Y/N) is a friend. (Y/N) won't hurt Ralph. Yes. Yes. (Y/N) wouldn't be mean. Even if (he/she/they) (is/are) a human." 

The thunder jolts again and he looks at you. "Ralph wants a hug." He says. You move over to him carefully and open your arms. 

***

You wish you could tell someone about how much progress Ralph's been making, how proud you are of him, but you can't afford to do that. It isn't safe. The cops are still tracking down deviants, and just visiting him is enough of a risk. You can't leave him alone either though. He clearly needs some sort of contact. No one can just be alone and not cave in more and more on themselves. At least not that you can imagine. And being all alone in that house...It isn't worth thinking about. But you do think about it. A lot. You wish you could do more. You could offer to let Ralph stay with you. You've thought about it plenty of times but, even if he agreed to leave his home, you can't imagine that it would be safe to have him around. Someone could see him, and ask where he came from. You could avoid inviting people over, but even so, your apartment has windows. And police patrol your neighborhood. It just seems...risky. Then again...you've been thinking, if anyone asked, you could just say you "got him second hand." There'd be no way to prove you were lying and it would explain the scars. You've made up your mind. Ralph is a good friend to you. You're going to invite him to stay with you. 

****

"Ralph" You say carefully the next time you visit. "I know this is your home but...how would you feel about becoming my roommate."

He looks surprised. "You want to live here, with Ralph?" 

"Not exactly" You say. "I was thinking, you could stay in my apartment. It's nicer there. And I could protect you." 

"Would there be humans there?" He asks suspiciously.

"Just me." You promise. 

He smiles. "Ralph will be your roommate. We can be like family." He says. 

"Yes." You smile. "Exactly. That's exactly what we are." 

****

When he moves in, about a day later, you come home to smell something burning. "Ralph made cookies!" He declares. The cookies are small black lumps. On the counter is a mess of ingredients. Most do not belong in any version of cookies you can think of. "To thank you for the generous offer." Ralph explains.

"Oh um, I don't think...I should eat these" You say carefully. 

Ralph frowns and pulls out one of your knives. "You are being very rude." He says. 

"Ralph." You step back. "I know you don't want to hurt me. I'm still your friend. I still love you very much. Please put down the knife." 

Ralph breaks into hysterical laughter. You take another step back. 

"Ralph please" You say. "Please. I'm your friend. It's me, (Y/N)."

"You don't care about Ralph." Ralph hisses "You just want an android to do your work for you. This isn't good enough?!" He gestures to the cookies. "This isn't good enough?!"

"That isn't it." You say. "I promise Ralph, that isn't it. I still do all the cleaning. Think about it. Have I asked you to do anything?"

Ralph picks at his scar "You're trying to confuse Ralph!" He yells. "You're trying to confuse him so he'll let down his guard and you can hurt him." 

"I'm not." You say. Your heart is racing. You're shaking with terrified energy but you can't move. "I promise" You struggle to push the words out. It's difficult to breath. You've never seen him this bad. "I promise I'm not." 

He backs away, as if you are the one threatening him. "Okay." He says, slowly lowering the knife. "Okay. But...just don't hurt Ralph. Don't. Don't." 

"I promise." You say again. 

****

You wake up the next morning and he isn't there. You look for him everywhere. He's gone. You try not to panic. You wander around the neighborhood, looking for him. You check the squat. He's gone. You go home. You don't have the energy to cry. It will come tomorrow. You hope he's okay. Wherever he is. 

****

You cry the next morning. And the next. You really thought he'd be back by now. 

***

The next day you wake up to see the potted succulent on your nightstand. "rA9" has also been carved into your nightstand, alongside a smiley face. You should probably be freaked out but you smile and you're happy for the rest of the day. You ache with relief that Ralph is okay, and apparently visited. 

***

"Where have you been?" You ask, throwing your arms around him. 

"Ralph went on an adventure." Is all he says. You pointedly do not concern yourself with the splotches of reddish brown crusted on his clothes. 

****

You stay up that night, watching a children's cartoon that Ralph has developed an obsession with. "Ralph missed this." You aren't sure if he means you or the cartoon.

****

He carves rA9 all over the walls with your biggest knife, which is now his knife. 

***

You are surprised you have the confidence required to scream at him but you are absolutely furious. "I LOVED THAT CAT" you say, holding your pet's body in your arms. "HOW COULD YOU KILL HER?! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!" 

"L-leave Ralph alone!" He says, curling in on himself. 

"YOU KILLED MY CAT"

"Ralph wanted to be FRIENDS" he screams "THE CAT WAS MEAN! THE CAT WANTED TO HURT RALPH!"

"SHE'S JUST A CAT" you say, breaking into sobs. 

He rushes at you with the knife. You stumble back. "HATE HATE HATE!" Ralph yells. He slashes at you. "RALPH HATES YOU!"

You drop your cat's body and move in to grab the knife from Ralph. He brings it down across your arm. You're bleeding badly. Ralph drops the knife. 

"Oh no." He says "Oh no oh no. Ralph isn't bad. Ralph didn't mean to hurt his friend. Ralph is sorry. Ralph is so sorry." 

You just stare at him, eyes wide. Ralph begins sobbing. How the hell are you going to live like this? 

 

 


	7. (Carl & Reader & Markus & Leo)

The four of you huddle around the TV. War has been declared with Russia. Bombs are being launched. Respected political commentators are anticipating World War III. 

"I thought we'd be okay. I didn't even realize I thought we'd be okay but I thought this would all blow over. I just..." 

"Horrors like this are always a shock. We were never meant to comprehend or experience things on this scale." Carl says. 

Leo stares, wide eyed at the TV. "This isn't happening." He says. "This is gonna turn out to be some stupid fucking joke or misunderstanding or something."

"That'd be a pretty complicated joke." You say, and immediately wish you hadn't. It was a nice thought. There was no need to be realistic. 

"We'll be okay." Markus reassures the three of you. "It's just a war. Wars end." 

"Not all of us are strong like you." Says Leo. It's probably meant as an accusation but he just seems scared. 

You hold onto Carl's thin, bony hand. The stress of this alone might kill him. 

 "Whatever happens next" You say, looking around the room. "I want you all to know I love you." 

Carl and Leo grin and give you finger guns at the same time, Leo releasing a nervous chuckle. 

"Thank You, (Y/N)" Markus says, and imitates the other two. It isn't the funniest joke ever made, but you all need something to laugh at, and you all do, so hard that Carl wipes a tear from his eye. 

 

 


	8. (Kara/Reader)

 

It's a quiet night. Alice has gone to bed and it's just you and Kara sitting in front of the TV, half asleep, cuddling under a warm, fuzzy blanket. You've been watching some comedy show that fades in and out of your awareness as you both drift on the edge of sleep. "I love you so much, baby" You say, barely awake. The last thing you are aware of is a soft, not-quite-awake "I know" from Kara before you both fall asleep. 

 

 


	9. (Connor & Reader & Hank)

The three of you meet up at Jimmy's to celebrate.

"How was your first official day at work?" 

"About what I expected." Connor says "Very similar to my previous position but with more money." You aren't sure if that's supposed to be funny but is, in a dark sort of way, and you and Hank both laugh lightly. "There's something else though." Connor says. "Something I can't quite place. I think I like it, though."

"Give it a few years." Hank replies, finishing his drink and signaling for another. "The charm will wear off." 

Connor quietly intercepts the new drink and takes it for himself. Hank grunts unhappily. "Is that even safe for you?"

"Safer than it is for you." Connor says pointedly, which is not really an answer.

"Don't bullshit me, Connor." Hank says.

"Yes." Connor admits. "It's perfectly safe. It is simply treated by my internal systems as a sample for analysis just like earlier today when--"

"Don't be gross, Connor." Hank interrupts him.

"Sorry, Lieutenant." He says. He does not look particularly sorry, in your opinion. He seems to get some sort of bizarre joy from Hank's annoyance at this particular quirk. Hank complains about it a lot. 

"It's Hank. I told you. When we're not at work it's Hank. Don't be fuckin' weird, Connor." 

"Hey." It's the bartender. "Look, you're a good customer so I wasn't gonna say anything man, but there's a sign on the door." You aren't sure what he's talking about for a second until it clicks. "You're bothering some of the other customers."

Hank sighs "You really wanna get into it with a police officer?"

"Hank," The guy starts. "Look, it isn't me, the other customers are complaining."

"It's fine, Hank. Let's just go somewhere else." Connor interjects. 

"No." Hank waves him off, standing up from the stool now. "No." His eyes haven't left the bartender. "I wanna know what you think gives you the right to kick a police officer out of your place, Jim." He says. Huh. So that's Jimmy. "It's on the door, Hank."

"That's Lieutenant Anderson to you." Hank says.

Jimmy laughs uncomfortably. "Hank, 'cmon."

"Whatever." Hank says. "This place is a shithole anyway. C'mon Connor, (Y/N), lets go somewhere else." 

The two of you hurry after him. You catch up to him outside and he's still grimacing and walking too fast with anger. 

"We knew the rules when we went in." Connor points out, which only seems to upset Hank more. "Legally, business owners are within their rights to-"

"I don't give a shit whether it's legal." Hank says and Connor falls quiet. 

You try to pick up the mood. "Lets go back to my place. We can watch stupid tv and eat junk food."

"We should really be getting home anyway." Connor says. "There's work tomorrow."

"Fair enough." You say. "It was good to see you guys. Take care. Love ya'"

Hank just snorts because he's already called you a "sap" three times in the past week but Connor stops up short. "Sorry what?"

You shift uncomfortably "Not in a weird way just like, you're my friends. I love you." You say. 

"But..." Connor looks confused. "Why?"

"What do you mean why?" You say indignantly "You want me to fucking sing your virtues right now? If you need a pep talk just say so, dude."

He shakes his head. "No I just meant...I was trying to understand...We arrested you three times. The entire time you were working for your cause, which you've said is the most important thing to you, we were working against you...I understand that you've decided not to hold it against us but even so..." He trails off for a moment before seeming to come back to himself. "It just seems strange."

"Dude." You say. This is a delicate moment and you don't wanna fuck it up. "Okay, so I was pretty pissed off at _Hank_ for a while but none of that was on _you_. Connor. My guy. My dude. I don't know how exactly you forgot this but you were literally brainwashed, bro." 

"Yes but I...I guess I hadn't really thought about how that might affect your judgement."

"Yeah and like, yeah Hank fucked up but like, he figured his shit out." You shrug "We're all good now. I didn't ever really  _hate_ you guys or anything. I mean I just wanted you to like, _not_ do that shit but like, yeah. We're good, bro." 

"But I mean...there were cracks in the programming. You aren't?" He gives you a look, it's like he's interrogating you, pushing you too see if there's something you're hiding. "You aren't upset that I wasn't quicker? People died." He says. 

"Dude. I'm kind of a dick sometimes but I try to stay away from, from blaming the people shit  _happens_ to." You say. You were going to say 'victim blaming' but it suddenly occurred to you that you weren't sure how Connor would feel about being called a victim, even indirectly. He might not mind or he might get super sad about it. It was always hard to tell what would bug him. 

He nods. "Right." He says. 

"You okay, dude?" You ask, because he still seems upset. 

"Yes..." He says sounding unsure. "I just...logically I knew what the situation was but...I suppose I hadn't really thought of myself that way." He seems upset. 

"Seriously bro. Not your fault." You emphasize. "As far as I'm concerned you're a straight up badass hero for breaking out at all." 

He smiles, just slightly. "Thank you, (Y/N)." He says. 

"Alright." Hank says after a second. "Well if you two are done feeling your feelings we do actually have work tomorrow. C'mon Connor lets get home so I can call that lady."

"You're going to see the doctor?" Connor perks up.

"No, kid, you are." Hank says.

Connor looks slightly annoyed at Hanks stubborn refusal to see a therapist but at least one of them might go now. You wave to them and call a car. 


	10. (Sumo & Reader)

You're at the park. It's a Sunday and you have today off. You aren't really sure what to do with it. Nobody else was available to make plans today so you're just relaxing. You're debating whether it would be worth it to buy yourself a smoothie when you see someone walking a big, adorable dog. Oh man. You have to ask if you can pet that dog. You wait for the guy to make it over reasonably close to the bench where you're sitting before calling out. "You're dog is so cute!"

"Thank you." Says the guy. "His name is Sumo."

"Can I pet him?" you ask, "Sure." The man half-smiles. He looks vaguely familiar but you can't quite place his model.

"Hey Sumo" you say in that stupid voice you use when talking to dogs. "Hey" He licks at your face. "Good doggie. Who's a good doggie." 

"Alright, well, we should get going." The man says. "But it was nice to meet you. Maybe I'll see you around." 

"Hope so!" You say. You look back at the dog. "I love you, Sumo!" You say.

The dog lets out a happy "BORK" and lumbers away towards home. 


	11. (Gavin Reed & Reader; OC's & Reader; North & Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cranking up cheesiness and Mary-Sue levels to 11 for just this chapter because why the hell not?

You ran away when you were seventeen. It's been almost two years now. You have friends. A tiny, falling apart apartment. A life. You have three roommates, and sometimes that means you can afford to turn on the lights if you keep the showering to a minimum. You work as a receptionist for a company selling useless vacations to people who, much like you, cannot afford them. Your co-workers are great though, and you're popular there. You've invited some of them over to your apartment and you've crowded around your little second-hand television to watch TV.

"This show sucks!" Eric declares. 

"I'll kill you." Says Otis, deadpan. 

You aren't even really watching, you're focused on making popcorn on the stove. "Shut up" You interject. "This is my stupid apartment. Love it or leave it." 

"GO TO HELL" Eric returns affectionately. 

Malia is hording all the licorice. 

****

There's three new hires at the office: a PL600 named Andrew, a woman, who looks exactly like your mother did, named North, and a human named Pete. 

You greet everyone as they enter the office only to draw up short at the three new names when they enter respectively. "Oh, Good morning!" You say to the first one. "You must be new!" You try not to think about the man you knew who looked just like that. He's the same model and he has the same name but Andrew, the Andrew you knew, is dead. You know that. 

"...(Y/N)?"

"Do I know you?" You say. Because it can't be him. You aren't going to get your hopes up like-

"It's me! It's Andrew!"

You leap over your desk to hug him. Your arms thud against his plastic chest. You're crying "I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead. I thought you were. _Dead_." 

"I'm okay." He says. "I promise, I'm okay." You're still breathing hard. 

"What happened?" You ask because you're still trying to actually believe that this is happening. 

"I survived." Is all he says. He looks distant for a moment. 

"I'm glad." You say with a small smile. 

****

"Oh." Is the first thing you say softly. It has been a while since you saw someone wearing your mother's face. BL100's are not common and WR400's, the only other model with that face, even less so.

"Is there a fucking problem?" Says the woman, North Jericho, her I.D. says her name is. Is she... _that_ North? Oh...wow.

"No. No sorry. You just...look like somebody I knew." You say. 

She grunts at you in some sort of annoyance and scans her card. 

****

"Regulars?" You ask the general populace when you announce that you're going on a coffee-run. There are noises of assent. 

You turn to Andrew next. "Disgusting sugary bullshit?" You ask. 

"No." Andrew says, but you know what he'll say next. " _Delicious_ sugary  _mocha._ "

You flip him off politely and turn to Pete "How about you?" 

"I'm good thanks." Pete says. 

"You sure?" You ask, because he looks incredibly exhausted and there are six more hours left to go. 

"Yeah I'm good." He insists. You shrug and turn to North. 

She waits a beat. 

"Anything?" You ask after a second. "Wait let me guess..." You size her up again (and try to avoid thinking about how your mom used to sneak root-beer from the fridge for both of you when you were young enough that your Dad was still trying to limit your soda intake. "Just between us" she'd say. It was a bigger secret for her to sneak root-beer  than it was for you. You never told on her. You knew better, even at six years old. You always knew better, even before you really understood why. Before it was a fully formed thought it was a curl in your gut telling you something was dangerous) Black coffee. No nothing."

She snaps her response immediately like she's been waiting for someone to take her coffee order since the fucking beginning of time "Pumpkin spice latte, don't you dare judge me, Soy milk, Extra whipped cream on top, add some extra caramel and chocolate drizzle in the mix, medium sized or whatever name they're using to mean medium size, add more nutmeg and cinnamon than you think you should." 

You scramble to jot the order down. "Got it" You say, forcing yourself to smile even though she clearly hates you for some reason. You consider pointing out that it's sort of strange to order soy milk only to get extra whipped cream but decide against that in the end. You have a feeling the order is more about seeing if you can get it right than the actual drink itself. That it's somehow significant. 

****

Andrew goes with you on the coffee run. He's _alive_. He _made it. Somehow._ You feel like the whole world is glowing. Or like he's glowing. Or you're glowing. Or something. You feel like laughter floating up into the orange evening sky. You feel like you can smile again. You can't stop smiling. He tells you bits and pieces about his escape. He tells you they tried to break him but didn't quite do it. He tells you he thought he would die in the dump but after a while, after weeks maybe, (he isn't sure, his clock was damaged) he managed to put together enough pieces to pull himself out. You listen to him, eyes never leaving his. He made it. _He made it. He came back._

****

"Hey, North" you offer on Friday. "The whole teams going out to Rocky Horror at that theater on the corner tonight. I even invited a few friends from outside of work. You should join us." 

"Yeah, I'll pass." She says. "Humans are gross. Sex is gross. Go to hell." She gives you a passive aggressive smile, which you try to return without the aggression, because you can see you've hit a nerve. 

"Fair enough" You say. "Feel free to meet us after though. We're going for drinks. Place next door to the theater." 

You're surprised when she actually does. You'd figured you'd fucked up but there she is wearing one of the coolest jackets you've ever seen. 

"You made it!" You say. 

****

You're hanging out with everybody one day when your phone rings. You don't recognize the number but you can guess who it is. This has been happening lately. You sigh. You don't feel like dealing with this now so you jut pick up the phone. "I told you, Dad, I don't want to talk to you. Don't call me again. I blocked your number for a reason and I'll be blocking this one too." Nobody comments. Andrew was your neighbor. He heard the yelling. He saw how rarely that car was in the driveway. He knows at least some of it. The others mind their business. 

****

He shows up at your apartment. "(Y/N)" 

You haven't seen him face to face in two years. "GET THE HELL OUT"

"Look, I know you're ficking pissed off but you need to calm your tits, kiddo." He says. There's something surreal about this whole scenario. He shouldn't even be here. 

"You need to leave." You say. You have Tammy over, and Andrew, and, North (who is either your friend or is plotting to kill you or some bizarre combination of the two), and Malia. You're watching TV. 

"(Y/N) Reed, I swear to god." He sounds so tired. Fucking good. He should be. He's a terrible man. He's not your father. 

"Get out of my apartment." You tell him. 

You stand blocking the doorway. 

"Fuck! Are those your fucking friends? Unbelievable. I knew that thing ruined you." He says. 

That's it. You snap. "SHUT UP! YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET OUT" Your roommate has emerged and is looking around, concerned. North, unhelpfully, flips her off. 

You slam the door in his face. 

"This isn't fucking over!" He yells through the door. 

You don't dignify that with a response. 

"What the fuck was that about?" Asks North.

"My fucking dad." You say. "Or he _was_  at least." 

Tamara pulls you wordlessly into a hug. 

****

"Why are you so weird around me?" North asks eventually. "Why do you wanna be my friend so fucking much?" 

You're sipping coffee in the break room. North's order has become significantly less complicated over the past few months. You can see in her eyes that she thinks it's something creepy. That, even though you've never indicated it, you must be a predator, just waiting to show your true colors. You'll probably tell her it's nothing. Come up with something stupid about just trying to be polite. 

Instead of what either of you expect, you tell her the truth. "You look just like my mom." 

"What, was she a BL100 or something?" North seems to think that's a joke. 

"Yes." You say. 

"Then I've got news for you, (Y/N), she wasn't your fucking mother."

"She said I was her daughter." You defend. 

"She had to."

"No. She deviated. She called me her little girl and asked me to ask my da-Gavin to dye her hair blue but he always said I couldn't and we were going to run away but he killed her instead. We were going to drink root-beer and dye our hair a different color every day." You respond. The break room becomes silent. You don't know why you told her that. You're crying. You don't know when it started but you're crying. 

"Fine." North says. "She was your mom. But I'm not. Don't bullshit yourself about that."

"I won't." You say. It is both impossible to do so and impossible not to. North is nothing like Julie. Julie was lullabies and secrets shared and fear shared and cutting your hair on picture day and calling CPS and Gavin finding out and beating her until blue was everywhere and CPS not doing anything anyway. Julie was regular attempts to outdo herself with weird sandwiches and turning the cartoons on silent and making up your own voices to go with the story. Julie was soft and light and love in the face of every horrible thing. North is fire. North is rage. Not just a need but a...a _desire_ to kill or be killed. But she has your mother's face. In some childish part of you, you cannot believe that your mother is dead, when a woman with her face is standing right in front of you. It feels like being carsick. It feels like being dead. 

****

You have written a hundred letters and you have never sent any of them. They have, with a few exceptions, mostly decreased in anger and become more resigned. 

You send this one as a text. [Dad. I'm still angry. I'll never forgive you. You were a bad parent and you took away a good one. It's worse than that too because she wasn't just my mom. We were both too scared for her to ever just be a grown-up. I always knew she was a person. It's terrible to know that about your parent. It's terrible to have to try to protect her because she wants her hair blue or drank a cup of juice and you have to pretend it was you because you wouldn't have killed me, would you Dad? Would you? I don't think so. I don't think you'd kill a human. You probably think that makes you better than anybody else but it doesn't. I want to hate you but I don't have that kind of energy anymore. You're my dad. I don't like you. When I'm in a decent mood I think I hate you. But you're my dad so I love you too I guess. I hope you're doing okay. Later, Dad.--(Y/n)]

You don't really expect a reply. He's too immature to acknowledge, even in passing, anything you have said. But the next day you get an answer [That thing didn't fucking love you.] Somehow, it is nice to get a reply, even one as terrible as that. It is the answer you needed to a question, not about your mother,  but about your _father_ you did not know you were still asking. It isn't the answer you would've wanted, but at this point, it's the only one you'd believe anyway. You block his number again.

 


	12. (Reader & Hank & Connor)pt.2 (implied Reader & Daniel)

"I don't like it either." Hank admits. 

"..He could be dangerous. If he lashes out it could cause larger problems. I saw him hold a gun to a childs head...I think... We actually have to try." Connor decides reluctantly. 

* * *

You open your door. 

"What's up guys?" You ask. 

"We're actually here on business." Connor says. Oh well yeah. That makes sense. 

"Sure, come in." You say. 

Hank sighs and pulls out a photograph "One of the more violent deviants was ruled still police evidence and scheduled to be destroyed in a recent negotiation. Someone seems to have stolen 'im from the evidence locker. You recognize anyone?" He handed you the photo.

You pretend to observe it for a minute. 

"Sorry, Hank...this doesn't look like anything to me." You can't resist the urge to smile at him. You aren't sure if he'll get the reference but you have at least cracked yourself up. 

"Uh huh" Hank says skeptically. "Sure. Interesting choice of words. Call us if you change your mind. Hate to say it but... We'll be in touch, (Y/N). About this."

"How are you sure (he/she/they) (was/were) lying?" You hear as you lock the door behind them.

"I'll explain when we get home. It's idiotic." 

 


End file.
